


Traitorous

by Clockwork



Category: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
Genre: Movie Spoilers, Other, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:36:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockwork/pseuds/Clockwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILER ALERT!!!</p><p>Set midmovie, just after Peter obtains the log. Peter arrives at Smiley's home to a bit of a shock. Will contain spoilers for the movie!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traitorous

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER ALERT!

The location had changed. It wasn't unusual to change locations, to ensure the safety of all involved, but that didn't mean it didn't leave a tightness in the pit of his stomach as he leaned back but never found a comfortable position in the car. To be otherwise, to find comfort and solace in this next step after what he had just been through would mean allowing a level of trust that Peter in the circles in which he worked would never know. Especially not after having to send Rupert away. Definitely not after having Tarr turn on them as he had, disappearing into another world and taking whatever trust Peter had for anyone within the Circus with him.

Ricky Tarr who had so much he could gain, especially with Peter in charge of the "scalphunter's", but he'd taken an offer from the other side. Maybe he was dead by now. More than likely he was living in some well appointed flat in Moscow, enjoying the local vodka. Probably not alone. He'd gotten out before things had gone downhill. Before Control and Smiley had left and now things were in shambles with Smiley seeking out which of them had turned like Tarr had.

The thought made Peter shift on the seat, turning his attention to the passing houses, the people going about their lives, trying not to think those words that had begun to worm into his brain. While Peter himself was putting more faith in Smiley than he had anyone in years, had Ricky Tarr put his trust in someone else, someone within the organization that had set him up with his escape? What if his disappearance from a job that should have brought them someone new had been a carefully orchestrated plan to keep someone from discovering the truth and revealing Ricky for what he was. There weren't many who were close to those in Peter's division. Hell, they weren't even close with one another, but there had been one who could have been close enough to realize that Tarr's heart was no longer in it. Not in it for the Circus and the Crown but for what the Russians could give him.

The car pulled up in front of a building. Not another hotel but an address that Guillam knew from his research. George Smiley's own home. It wasn't safe, not in the least. If Peter knew it, then whomever the mole was would know it as well and with what he was bringing back to Smiley, it was taking one hell of a chance.

Swallowing his fears, he got out without a backwards glance. Long, nimble fingers were white knuckled on the leather wrapped handle of the attache, trying to look casual even as he carried the book into the safety of the house. Assassinations and kidnappings were the kind of work he could do without a blink, not even thinking about it but this was different. He had broken protocol and stolen from his own command. If they were wrong, if there was no mole and no one betraying the rest to Russia, then it was Peter himself that had committed the greatest of governmental sins. It was Peter himself that would pay.

Skipping up the steps, loafers barely skimming them, he walked in as if he owned the place. Keeping the case with him, he followed the sound of voices yet it wasn't George that Peter noticed first. Not when Ricky Tarr was sprawled on the sofa looking healthy and fit and trim like he'd just been off on a bit of a vacation. At least that's how Peter truly wanted to see it. He wanted to believe the traitorous bastard had been living the good life and now, only now, did he find himself desperate enough to seek out help. Yet even as that cynical side of his mind wanted to believe, it was the small details that proved even to him otherwise.

The way he gnawed at his cuticles, the rest of them ragged and some bearing the bright red lines where blood seeped, revealing the nervous habit as something he hadn't just started. He was nervous, paranoid in the way his gaze darted to Peter. It wasn't the look Guillam was used to seeing in the other man's eyes. Not when he was laid back on the sofa like that, just like he had so often been sprawled on Peter's own couch. Ricky Tarr was rough around the edges, more so than even one expected for those in their division, but for a time he'd occupied more than just a position underneath Guillam. For a time he'd been beneath him in so many other ways before he'd turned to the other side. For a time Ricky had been Peter's friend, the closest thing he'd ever had to a confidante, and his lover.

Now he was a dead man. He just didn't know it yet.

Dropping the leather bag for the first time since Belinda had returned it to him, Peter wasn't thinking as an agent, nor as a man on a mission. He was a man hurt, one who had lost so much when Ricky had left and he was going to make damn certain that the little bastard knew just how dearly he had fucked up.

The first blow came with a crack. The second brought blood. Even as he was dragged off, not wanting to stop even as the words started to penetrate deeper into his mind. Sneering at mention of the twentieth of November. Whether the pages were there or not, and if he'd been a betting man he would say not, they didn't change that Ricky was still a traitor in Peter's mind. He always would be. Perhaps not to his country, but a traitor nonetheless.


End file.
